*

Tribute



























*

'David Levine's caricatures were art'
David Levine, in memoriam  

LIKE LEWIS CARROLL, WHO might have imagined he would be remembered for his book on mathematics rather than the one he wrote for Alice, David Levine assumed that his claim to fame would rest on his watercolors. In an earlier age it would have. His paintings were on par with the very best of the previous century, including works by John Constable and Winslow Homer. But when he died on Dec. 29 at age 83, it was as a caricaturist that he was remembered and celebrated.
Like his paintings, his caricatures owed much to a 19th century aesthetic. The link between the crosshatching technique of the French cartoonist Andre Gill and the methods of the Brooklyn-born Levine is unmistakable, but to readers of Esquire in the early 1960S, Levine's style seemed refreshingly different. Soon the painter who regarded caricature as just a sideline also found himself illustrating for New York magazine and Harper's, drawing covers for TI M E and appearing regularly in a new publication, the New York Review of Books.
Levine joined the Review shortly after it was launched in 1963. Within a year, Vietnam would turn the literary journal into a political one as well, opening the door for Levine to produce the most trenchant protest art of the period. His caricature of Lyndon Johnson pulling up his shirt to reveal a Vietnam shaped scar on his abdomen (a parody of a photo Johnson had posed for) was circulated around the world.
But if his political caricature seethed with outrage, the man himself was gentle-he was happiest in a museum, studying Titian and Tintoretto, or with friends at his Wednesday-night life-drawing class, which he co-hosted for half a century.
-BY EDWARD SOREL
Sorel, a cartoonist, has illustrated many magazine covers and children's books
Time Jan 18, 2010

Như Lewis Carroll, nghĩ mình sau này sẽ được đời tưởng nhớ, như là nhà toán học lừng danh, hóa ra là nhờ mê em nhí Alice; David Levine cứ tưởng bở, mình sẽ đuợc đời nhớ tới, vì những bức mầu nước, hóa ra nhờ hí họa.
Bức hí họa vẽ Johnson vén áo cho đời coi vết thù trên lưng ngựa hoang [vết sẹo chiến tranh VN] mà chẳng ác sao?
Nếu như thế, biết đâu, đời sẽ nhớ Gấu nhà văn nhờ… BHD?
Hà, hà!
Nè, ta cấm mi lôi ta ra làm trò cười đấy nhe!


**

**

Mailer & Primo Levi

*

'David Levine's caricatures were art'
David Levine, in memoriam



David Levine obituary

The finest US political caricaturist of the 20th century and a master of visual metaphor

David Levine

David Levine in his studio in 1976 Photograph: Alfred Eisenstaedt/Time Life Pictures/Getty Image

In 1966 President Lyndon B Johnson, recuperating from gall bladder surgery, met reporters and pulled open his shirt to show them the scar from his operation. A few months later, in the New York Review of Books, the artist David Levine, who has died aged 83, drew Johnson opening his shirt to reveal a scar shaped exactly like a map of Vietnam. Beyond the impact of the image itself, with a few deft strokes Levine also imbued his LBJ with sadness; opening himself to the world, morosely aware that eyes would be drawn, inevitably, to the festering sore that was the Vietnam war. He revisited Johnson as a tragic figure when Time magazine named the president Man of the Year in 1967. Levine's cover portrayed LBJ as King Lear.

This ability to delineate subtleties of character made Levine America's finest political caricaturist since the 19th-century heyday of Thomas Nast. He drew Henry Kissinger, under an American flag blanket, copulating with the world, a female figure with the globe as her head. Another image of Kissinger, covered with tattoos representing wars, coups and assassinations, surfaced only recently in a collection of drawings that had been rejected by the New York Times editorial page.

LBJ by David Levine Levine's caricature of President Johnson, showing the Vietnam-shaped scar Photograph: Walter Daran/Time & Life Pictures/Getty Image

Levine was a master of visual metaphor, but apt as it was to portray Jimmy Carter as Nero, it was the oblivious bliss on Carter's face that made the caricature work. Expressions were the focus of his outsized faces, placed on withered bodies, often with the noses greatly exaggerated, creating a path for the viewer to his subject's eyes. He drew Richard Nixon more than 60 times, as everything from Don Corleone to a foetus; the ski-jump nose and five o'clock shadow framed a set of always-desperate eyes. In those days, many readers would have agreed with Levine's comment that "political satire saved the world from going to hell".

Levine was born and lived for most of his life in Brooklyn, New York, his "small town". For years he was the centre of an informal breakfast club at Teresa's restaurant in his Brooklyn Heights neighbourhood. His father was a pattern cutter, his mother a nurse and dedicated communist. A "red-diaper" baby, he sold copies of the Daily Worker, but the greatest thrill of his childhood was shaking hands with Franklin Delano Roosevelt when the president visited a Brooklyn sports ground. "My right hand has been bigger than my left ever since," he joked. His precocious artistic talent saw him taking classes at the Pratt Institute and the Brooklyn Museum before he had finished at Erasmus high school.

He studied education at Temple University, Philadelphia, and after two years in the army, studied fine art at Temple's Tyler school. His first love was painting, and, returning to New York, he studied with the abstract expressionist Hans Hofmann. Levine's own work was more realist, recalling earlier great New York artists such as John Sloan or John Marin, particularly in his watercolours, many of women on the beach at Coney Island, whom he called "shmatte ladies", using the Yiddish word for the rag trade.

In 1958, along with Aaron Shikler, Levine founded the Painters Group in Brooklyn; 50 years later they would be commissioned to produce a series of portraits of the rightwing Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. Levine worked as a commercial artist until, in 1960, he began drawing for Esquire. He joined the New York Review of Books soon after it was founded, in 1963, to fill the gap in newspaper book supplements caused by a printers' strike. He stayed with them until 2007, when failing eyesight made fine line work impossible.

Beyond politics, he covered the full gamut of literary figures and other celebrities – Allen Ginsberg with frazzled hair and beard forming a map of the US, Bertrand Russell as a hippy giving the peace sign, CP Snow as Humpty Dumpty with huge, horn-rimmed spectacles. The magazine would send a copy of the article he had been commissioned to illustrate, and photographs of the subject, to him at the Brooklyn Casino, where he played tennis. His finished work was then collected from there.

In 2008, an exhibition and an accompanying book celebrated Levine's portraits of presidents. Oddly, he had great trouble with the anodyne features of George W Bush. He did portray Bush as a modern centurion, or a pious wolf in sheep's clothing, an image he had also used for Bush's grandfather, Senator Prescott Bush. As John Updike once wrote of Levine: "In a confusing time, he bears witness. In a shoddy time, he does good work."

Levine had been suffering from macular degeneration, which took much of his sight, and prostate cancer. He is survived by his second wife, Barbara Hayes, a son and daughter from his first marriage, and a stepson and daughter from his second.

• David Levine, artist, born 20 December 1926; died 29 December 2009

David Levine, in memoriam

David Levine, who died at 83, was my country's greatest caricaturist of the last 50 years. He drew mostly for The New York Review of Books, those beautiful renderings of Woolf and Orwell and so on – and those beautifully caustic renderings of contemporary political figures that summed up in one image the whole of the historical moment (LBJ pointing to a scar on his belly in the shape of Vietnam). Read his NY Times obit here and look at some examples of his work, which you will recognize instantly if you don't know it now.
 
Cruelly, he suffered from macular degeneration starting in about 2007. But his body of work – some 5,000 drawings, 3,800 of them for the Review – is just stunning and will really live forever. I consider it a high privilege to have written a couple of pieces that were illustrated by Levine drawings, which undoubtedly said more about the subject at hand than my words did. So take a moment today to pay a nod to this genuinely great artist.

'David Levine's caricatures were art'

The Guardian's cartoonist Steve Bell pays tribute to the late caricaturist whose body of work for the New York Review of Books has influenced a generation of satirists

Cartoonist and illustrator David Levine at work

'He was very witty, very funny ... and very distinguished' ... Caricaturist David Levine at work. Photograph: Alfred Eisenstaedt/Time and Life Pictures/Getty Images

I'm really sad to hear that David Levine has died; his professional presence was immense. He was always a fine cartoonist – and an especially fine caricaturist – who defined a style copied by a lot of people. I don't think there's any hard-and-fast rules to describe exactly what he did, but Levine stood out because he was so very good at it; he had great scope.

I met him once at a colloquium about humour at Cambridge University. I never got to know him well, but he was there with Jules Feiffer, another one of the greats. They were both witty, very funny, and had that whole Jewish New York thing going on: dry, distinguished and elderly. As a progressive leftie with a speciality for caricature, he was, I think in an American context, becoming more and more an anomaly.

I know he had another life as a painter. I don't know if he regarded this as his true art, but his caricatures [for the New York Review of Books] were more than enough; they were an art in themselves. Levine gave the big-head, tiny-body idea, with the head emphasised and the body almost an afterthought, a very distinctive, modern stamp. A lot of people who draw in that style owe a lot to him, and while he didn't invent it, he was and will remain a big influence. I've never done the big set-piece caricatures Levine was about – I've always stuck to strip cartoons – but of course I'll miss his work.

I think the one drawing for which people will remember him most was his Lyndon B Johnson piece from 1966. He drew the president staring straight ahead, with his shirt open, pointing to an operation scar on his body. The scar being a map of Vietnam. Levine was sharp. He aimed at enough politicians with enough props in his lifetime to be recognised as one of the greatest satirists of our age. He was never flabby in his drawing or his subjects; he had a very penetrating line. Of his own job, I think he put it best himself when he said: "Anytime I can bring a god down to human scale, so people can say, 'Gee, Johnson has big ears just like my kid', I'm delighted."